Of Gold and Salt
by Unown L
Summary: All places have a story.


_This is a story that has been passed down for ages in the western area of the region known as Johto._

Long, long ago, before the birth of Pokemon trainers and gyms, there was nature. Not nature as we know it today, this was nature unbound. Humans, Pokemon and various other beings all lived together, as Mother Nature was more than willing to supply the space and resources.

In the cold western region of the land we now know as Johto, existed a rather large village. This in of itself wasn't an odd thing to find, but not for the land. The many acres which the village occupied were everything but desirable for a village. The land was infertile, the water was stale and the air was chilling, even on the hottest day of summer of the hottest year. And yet, the villagers got along alright. They bought their food from neighboring towns, held their noses while drinking the stale water and made their clothing from the discarded furs of Pokemon. "Things aren't the best", they thought, "but it could be worse."

Sadly, as any old man will tell you, thinking such things only gives the universe more ways to mess with a person.

One morning, not long before dawn, the villagers were awakened by an unearthly sound. Emerging from the mists of early morning came a beast. A great, barrel chested reptile, it stood at seven feet and layered with dry scales of dull emerald hue. It was never known what the beast wanted, it made no attempt to communicate, aside, perhaps, from announcing itself by felling a large barn.

The creature destroyed buildings, tore up what few crops the villagers were able to grow and scared away all the native Pokemon. Just as the sun started the rise, the creature took it's leave, leaving the villagers to weep over their loses and begin to rebuild. And rebuild they did. 30 days past, and the village stood once again. The loss of crops, so hard to grow on such barren ground, was still a worry, as food was becoming scarce, but they managed to get by.

Sadly, life had other ideas. On the night of the 30th day, the creature returned and once again ravaged the village.

Over the next month, the villagers did not rebuild. Partly due to the lack of food, mostly due to the lack of resources. It didn't help that winter was coming in a few weeks, and in an area as naturally cold as this, no shelter and food meant certain death. A few of the villagers attempted to gather food from a neighboring village, but they were all stocking up for the winter and had none to spare. Slowly, but surely, winter came, as did the 30th day following the last coming of the creature.

As the day came to a close, a man came. Dressed in gray rags, his long greasy hair pulled back into a slick ponytail, a sword at his hip. He walked with a slight stoop and spoke in a voice of stone and steel. He approached the villagers:

"I am Salt. The creature who has twice ruined your lives is a very large, very angry Pokemon. It will come again tonight and I will meet it. Should I defeat it, your lives will forever change for the better. Should I lose, you'd all best migrate to the forests to the south." He took a seat at the edge of the village and said no more.

An hour passed, a the pale evening gave way to a dark night. A light snow started to fall and thundering sound erupted from the dark. The beast emerged and came to a halt before Salt. Really, if you were a huge Pokemon full of rage, wouldn't you find it strange that a man might sit before you with a lazy look in his eyes? Not contemplating the situation long, the creature lunged forward. With maybe a wee bit more grace than the creature, Salt lept out of the way of it's massive claw, unsheathing his sword with his left hand. This action made everyone, the creature included, pause for a moment.

Salt's sword was a swordstick with, what seemed to be, no blade. Seemed, that is. Rather, the blade was nearly invisible, giving off a faint glow.

In the split second following this pause, Salt brought his lips together and whistled at length. From seemingly the heavens came a bird of shining metal, which swopped down and collected Salt. The two took to the skys and spun around, facing the creature, making clear the intent to end the battle before it started. Anyone who wasn't paying attention at this point now was. Intently.

In fairness to the creature, it recovered from this spectacle rather well. The creature reared back it's head, a ball of energy collecting just behind it's tongue. Salt responded to this by raising his sword high, the metal bird diving hard and fast towards the creature. As the gap between the monster and swordsman closed, the monster unleashed the energy it had been saving, a ray of pure power erupted from it's mouth.

Salt brought his sword down hard, meeting the blast head on. The blade mixed with the utter speed of the metal bird and Salt's own strength allowed his attack to slice through the ray. Within seconds, they were within inches of each other. Not having any of that, the creature unleashed another blast, this one stronger and faster than the last. Salt once again countered, his sword glowing a strange color. Whatever it was that he did, when his blade met the creatures blast, an explosion of energy was the result.

And it was quite the explosion at that. The blast tore up the land, shook clouds and lite up the sky. The vibration was felt far across the land, as far away as a viridian colored town. When the light faded, the villagers found the creature gone. So to was Salt and the metal bird. It seemed to them that it was finally over.

And they were right. The creature never returned and neither did Salt. But Salt's words rang true, as life did change for the better. The villagers took to the forest to the south for the winter. Come the spring, they found that that mighty blast had churned the land, bringing up a rich loam and had shattered three miles worth of shallow land leading to a beach, bringing the ocean closer to the village. The winter had been a gentle one (which some attributed to the battle having far reaching effects), so neighboring villages had many resources to spare. By the fall, the village had more than been reborn, it had grown. Crops yielded in stunning amounts and the Pokemon all came back. "Life couldn't be better", thought the villagers. And they were right.

Thus is the story of the village of Goldenrod, which would one day become a grand city and capital of the region which would one day become known as Johto.

But that's another story.

_It has been said that the above story is the true history behind the founding of Goldenrod. However, as with most legends, there probably is just as much truth as lie in this tall tail. This story contains a number of unbelievable curcumstances, but our world is one filled with fabulous creatures, so who knows. There are similar stories like this one about other areas of the Johto region, but, as the adage goes, that's another story._


End file.
